


It's Always Pest

by charlotteicewolf77



Category: Attack the Block (2011)
Genre: Gen, Possibly Pre-Slash, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteicewolf77/pseuds/charlotteicewolf77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s always Pest. Always without fail= Pest and that stupid hat of his that he doesn’t take off even in the summer. Pest the weird one. Pest the crazy one, Pest the mad one. Always Pest.” Pre-slash, maybe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Always Pest

It’s always Pest  
“It’s always Pest. Always without fail= Pest and that stupid hat of his that he doesn’t take off even in the summer. Pest the weird one. Pest the crazy one, Pest the mad one. Always Pest.” Pre-slash, maybe?  
~0~   
On a normal day, when they all should really have been at school and they were skiving off, because who really needed school in this shithole? Not like anyone was getting further than prison, or another shitty flat and shitty minimum wage job. Moses could count the number of times he had been in this term on one hand. Dennis, Jerome and Biggz could be counted on to attend maybe one day out of five and Pest went most Thursdays to get a free meal from the college course that the school had set him up on. Whether he actually learned anything useful was anyone’s guess, although he knew enough to fix one of their bikes when they broke. But most (because normal was the majority, or some bullshit like that the boy in Maths spouted) days, they start off at Moses’ flat- Uncle never there except the occasional Sunday. He answers the door to Biggz, or Dennis, or Jerome, and then the other two. Pest is last, he is always last but he usually brings some of the breakfast his Nan always makes him eat. Not like the school bother with calling home, anyway, they prefer to talk about them in the staffroom with cups of tea and eye rolls and ‘typical’ for everyone coming from the Block. Pest is always last, and they smoke and then get themselves out just in time for people to be coming home from work, or even school. Daylight isn’t the best for what they have to do, but some alleys are good enough. It gets them by- Dennis can help pay bills when his Dad is out of work (again), Pest can get his Mum a train ticket (not that he ever knows where to send it), Jerome can help his sister get school books (not that she’ll ever escape the Block) and Moses and Biggz can feel for a while that they’re not totally poor and hopeless (even though they are). It gets them by, which is all that matters. Some days they stay out until God knows when and others they go to Ron’s weed room and get high as anything, talking about everything in the world.

So what’s not normal is for him to open his eyes and to be on the floor of Jerome’s bedroom, head pounding like there’s a team with sledgehammers pounding at his skull. “Fucking hell,” he mutters and somewhere above him there’s a groan and Jerome peeks over the side of the bed, looking as rough as Moses feels.  
“Fucking hell,” Jerome echoes quietly. “The fuck went down last night, blood?”  
“Dunno,” he mutters in return. “Some fucking rough shit is all I know.”  
“You don’t say,” Jerome retorts, pushing himself upright and somehow not puking. Moses, on the other hand, is quite comfy where he is, using dirty laundry as his pillow.  
“Was there booze?” he asks eventually. “Or was it weed?”  
“Both, fam’” Jerome tells him, chucking a tinfoil packet of painkillers onto the floor next to him. “Dunno where the others are, ‘nd Pest still ain't answering his phone.”

Ah, Pest, Moses thinks. It’s always Pest. Always without fail= Pest and that stupid hat of his that he doesn’t take off even in the summer. Pest the weird one. Pest the crazy one, Pest the mad one. Always Pest. But he hasn’t really been around for a while and Moses would text but none of the others got a reply and his Nan told him that he had been trying to sort things out with his Mum so Moses was giving him space. Not that he could really understand why precisely anyone would want to ‘sort things out’ with their junkie mother, but still. Each to their own or some shit like that.

“Want some?” Jerome offers the Pot-Noodle- apparently it’s never lunch than breakfast.  
“Nah, man,” Moses declines, finally pulling himself into a sitting position and swallowing down two of the painkillers dry. Jerome shrugs, takes back the packet and goes to put it back in the bathroom cupboard.  
“Biggz and Dennis both ended up at Dennis’,” he tells Moses. “You got bare hammered last night, bruv. ‘S why you’re here and not downstairs- said you passed out halfway through and Pest weren’t around to carry you downstairs, man.”  
Because Pest was the only one who would be stupid enough to try and give someone a fireman’s lift down umpteen staircases when drunk. “Where the hell’s Pest staying?” Moses questions.  
“At his Mum’s- Nan’s away for a week,” he explains, scooping more food into his mouth. “Havin’ a ‘trial run’ or something, bruv.” Moses nods, only just realising he has no shirt or socks on. Jerome flicks on the telly, BBC anthem blaring in the otherwise quiet flat and Moses spots his socks on the window sill.   
O….k, seems it was a very strange night.

~0~

They end up watching fucking Jeremy Kyle of all things. And it’s not too bad, until the story changes to “My parents are dead and my Uncle abandoned me!” and Moses says “Let’s go find the others, man.” And Jerome gives him a look, but he doesn’t say anything so Moses thinks he can deal with that. Just about. 

They’re halfway to Dennis’ flat when Jerome’s mobile squeaks (Moses couldn’t find his. Was probably still in his flat) and his friend pales.  
“What?!” Moses demands, grabbing the phone and reading the text from Biggz.  
“GET TO DENNISS! MAN DOWN! PEST DOWN!” their eyes meet and then they are running down the stairs, taking them two, three, four at a time because Pest needs their help.

~0~

“What the fuck?!” Moses almost- okay, does- yells. On the landing between staircases just above the corridor where Dennis lives, the other three of their five sit. Biggz is at the bottom of the steps that they are coming down, and Dennis is at the top of the other; Pest is slumped against the railings in between the pair, hat clutched in slim fingers as Dennis talks in hushed tones and Biggz holds a crumpled wad of tissues to his head- Moses tries to pretend his heart doesn’t miss a beat when he sees the red stain on them. Dennis looks up, puts a finger to his lips to shush them and gestures for Biggz to hand over the tissues so he can fill in the other two.   
“I just found him here, fam’” he murmurs quietly. “Dunno what the fuck’s been going on, just found him lying here with his head all cut up ‘nd he’s lost the key to his Nan’s flat.”  
“Why ain't he at his Mum’s?” Jerome asks, confused beyond all reason.  
“Wouldn’t tell me, bruv,” the other shrugs apologetically. “Would have texted sooner but he didn’t want us to.”  
At that moment, Pest starts to cough. Harsh, painful, broken coughs that make the other four wince in sympathy and feel more than just slightly concerned when he tries not to make how much it actually hurts show.  
“His Nan ain't back for another five days,” Dennis injects helpfully.  
Moses takes one look at the fingers wrapped around the hat, slim and pale and fragile and shaking and he makes up his mind. “He can sleep on my sofa,” he announces.   
Pest shakes his head. “’M fine, don’t need no couch, bruv,” he slurs tiredly, eyelids dropping.   
Jerome snorts before frowning, “D’you think he has a concussion?” Both Dennis and Biggz turn and give him puzzled looks and Moses is glad that he’s not the only one with no fucking idea what that means.

~0~

When it gets around to be proper night time, Moses and Pest are sitting on the sofa in front of the television and Moses desperately needs a smoke but Pest keeps coughing and wheezing and he can’t be arsed to actually get up and go smoke by the window. The blonde is back to wearing the hat, and Moses can’t actually see the cut on his head but he knows what it looks like- Jerome’s sister keeps a very extensive first aid kit under her bed, who knew?- because he helped Jerome patch their friend up.   
“She kicked me out,” Pest mutters. “Same day I went cuz’ I asked for money to go get us chips and she wanted it for drugs instead ‘nd I would have let it go but I hadn't got no breakfast ‘nd I was bare starving.” Moses feels guilty, because he and the other three stole most (okay, all) of the toast that Pest had brought to his flat three days ago and the hat-wearing teen hadn't complained once. Pest shifts, coughing as he rests his head on Moses’ shoulder. “I know,” he murmurs at the other’s look. “But you’re comfy, bruv.” Moses wants to shake him off, leave him on the sofa and crash in his bed, but he’s known Pest since Year fucking two, knows things about him that no one else does and told him secrets he would never tell anyone else and that means something, though he doesn’t know what. His friend looks up at him and gives him a grin, but it doesn’t make him look alive like it normally does; it just makes him look tired and vulnerable and Moses tries not to flinch at how hot the pale skin feels against his neck.

~0~

He ends up falling asleep spread-eagle on the couch, with Pest still curled up next to him with his head still on his shoulder and skin still burning. They wake up at seven, because Pest is coughing again and Moses doesn’t have the heart to complain because his friend looks like shit and it makes him wonder if he actually got any sleep because it sure as hell doesn’t look like it.  
Eventually, the fit dies down- and Moses has never been more thankful because he thinks Pest’s lips are actually starting to go ever so slightly blue. But it still isn’t ok because when he asks if he’s hungry, Pest says no. And he is always hungry. That’s what makes him Pest. “Can’t be arsed to eat, bruv,” he mutters and Moses has literally no idea how to react to that so he just flicks on the telly, but with the volume so low it might as well be on mute. So many questions lie between them, but they don’t talk because that would mean, well, talking.

“I couldn’t breathe,” Pest admits. “Was dark when she kicked me out- ended up sleeping in a doorway, bruv. ‘Nd when I woke up people kept thinking I were a fucking hobo and I got money- bare loads- and it were raining so I got food and then it got dark again so I just slept on a park bench, dunno why I didn’t think of crashing on your couch before.” He stops to cough and Moses really does flinch at how shaking fingers grip the hem of a shirt so tightly that the knuckles go white.  
“Calm the fuck down, man,” Moses says, trying to lighten the mood as he smacks the younger on the back to try and get him to stop.  
“Thanks,” Pest wheezes. “Figured out I should find a couch to sleep on, so I tried to find your flat but I ended up going too far up cuz my head weren’t exactly right; so I turned round to go back down but then it all went weird and dizzy and I couldn’t breathe.”  
Moses had sort of guessed and he can see it: staircase stretching out endlessly and everything a mass of swirling colours like in a 60’s TV show. It’s more than a bit scary. “Yeah, but you’re ok now, ain't ya, cuz?” and it’s a huge-ass fucking lie, because someone who is ok doesn’t cough like that. Doesn’t live in a shithole of a council estate with no money going spare and dead or absent parents and teachers at a school they rarely go to who don’t bother because they’ve seen it all before and know the life that awaits them.  
“Yeah, bruv,” Pest more wheezes than says. “I’m okay now.”


End file.
